


in your arms, i feel safe

by eternalmagic



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Male Miqo'te (Final Fantasy XIV), Male Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Post-Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers, Post-Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers, Post-Patch 5.3: Reflections in Crystal, its a beach date for the moonfire faire, well mostly established; they just dont have a name for it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:21:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26237053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternalmagic/pseuds/eternalmagic
Summary: Rowan tilts his head, wiggling his ears in an attempt to win Thancred over by being cute--which, unfortunately, almost always works. “It’s the beach, Thancred, we’re allowed to wear something that looks over the top."[ or, the warrior of light takes thancred to the moonfire faire as he readjusts to life in the source. ]
Relationships: Warrior of Light/Thancred Waters
Kudos: 15





	in your arms, i feel safe

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is my first ffxiv fic, but i am Dying over xiv in general. it's been such an enjoyable ride, and 5.3 absolutely destroyed me in the best possible ways. also, as this year was my first moonfire faire, i felt i should commemorate it somehow and a beach date fic seemed too cute to pass up. hopefully my thancred is in character.
> 
> i didnt get much of a chance to describe what my wol, rowan, looks like, but i did manage to find a photo of him, so if you want to get an idea of what he looks like have at it! [[ pic 1 ]](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EcWkFIGXQAMzfTE?format=jpg&name=large) he is both a jumpy dragoon boi and a white mage!!

It’s difficult to reconcile everything in his mind, he admits.

For Thancred, it’s been five years since he’d last seen Eorzea, five years since his soul was ripped from his body and he’d been dumped unceremoniously at the Crystal Exarch’s feet in the First. Five years since the liberation of both Doma and Ala Mhigo. He still half expects to hear tales of the end of the war with Garlemald, sure that it had come to an end while he was away, but instead he hears only further news of the unrest and unease coming from the front lines. The people around him--the ones who were spared the Calling--look exactly as he remembers them when his mind tells him they should look older.

The other Scions are having to adjust as well, and more than once he’s found himself sharing knowing looks with each of them when something reminds them of the difference in the passage of time between the two worlds. At the very least, it’s good to know he isn’t the only one coming to terms with how things don’t quite line up the way they’re supposed to.

The Warrior of Light (and Darkness now, Thancred amends internally) has taken it all in stride--of course, it’s easier for Rowan, who was able to travel back and forth between the worlds with not nearly the same difficulty as the others had and did so with surprising frequency. The Miqo’te mentioned more than once that the ordeals he had gone through in the First certainly _felt_ like they had aged him just as much as they had Thancred, but was always quick to say that it certainly wasn’t the same thing.

Thancred just feels strange--the feeling of going back to what he’d called “normal” before he’d been Called is creeping in, but he knows nothing will ever be the same. He tries his best not to show it, but he misses the First. He misses the cool breezes across the lake of Il Mheg, he misses the shade of the trees in Rak’tika. The stunning flora of Lakeland, the rusty-red sand and half-buried ruins of Amhara Araeng, the sight of Kholusia’s cliffside. The world that was his home for a not insignificant amount of time.

Most of all, he misses Ryne, even if he’s sure they will--someway, somehow--see each other again and that he’ll be even more proud of the young woman she’s become, the good she will have done.

Rowan does his best to be there, to listen when Thancred needs to speak about it (though, admittedly, Thancred is not one to talk about it very much to begin with). When he’s not busy, he seeks Thancred out, tempting him to a meal or a walk. He does his best to take Thacred’s mind off of things by talking idly about the things he’s done while away from Mor Dhona--both in the Source and in the First--but never shies away when Thancred lets the feeling of longing for a place that is no longer his home shows on his face. Instead, in those moments Rowan will press his lips to Thancred’s cheek and squeeze his hand as a reminder that he’ll never have to deal with it alone.

That’s one other thing that’s changed--this blossoming thing they have between them. Before, when Thancred was still stranded in the First, they’d both been hesitant to give it a name; there was originally the fact that Rowan nearly became a Lightwarden, and then the anxiety of whether Thancred would actually be able to return to the Source at all. In the face of all the unknowns, both of them had been content to leave things unnamed.

But with the both of them now standing in the Source, it feels like the quiet mornings they’d spent laying side by side in Rowan’s suite in the Pendants is nothing but a dream in some ways. In the First, it was easy; maybe it was the time that had kept them separated initially, maybe it was the ordeals they’d overcome, but something just made the time they’d had precious in ways Thancred hadn’t anticipated. But now, the sense of domesticity they’d had in the Crystarium is lost, giving way to this reborn, fledgling thing for the both of them to nurture.

Of course, that’s not to say that _everything_ about their relationship has changed. While Thancred misses the ease they’d had before as well as everything else about the First, he’s still more than happy to accept a gentle hand in his, an arm looped around his waist, a set of lips against his.

Which is why he only gives a small huff of a laugh when he feels someone entering his space, a pair of arms looping around him from behind and a face pressed into his shoulder.

“Welcome home.” Thancred says, peering over his shoulder to the mop of red hair behind him.

Rowan glances up to meet Thancred’s gaze, a smile dancing in his odd-colored eyes. “Hello. I missed you.”

Thancred doesn’t mention it’s only been a few days since they had last seen each other--even less since they had last spoken over their private linkpearl channel.

“And I, you.” Thancred delicately takes one of Rowan’s hands in his own, shifting in the Miqo'te grasp so they face one another. Almost instantly Rowan drapes himself against Thancred’s chest, letting the other return the embrace. “Based on your lack of injury, I assume your work with Baelsar turned out alright?”

Rowan’s ears droop a little, and he makes a quiet sound. Gaius Baelsar’s news of the Ruby and Sapphire Weapons has been a series of storm clouds hanging over Rowan’s exploits as of late, taking him far beyond the borders of Gyr Abania to take on the latest threat from Garlemald. Were he able to travel via aetheryte anymore, Thancred would drop everything to lend a hand, to be at Rowan’s side. Of course, that’s not to say that the Warrior of Light can’t handle himself, but--

Thancred worries, albeit quietly. And as Rowan is--of the two most important people in Thancred’s life--the one in closest proximity, Thancred worries about him more as of late.

“The Sapphire Weapon is no longer a threat, if that answers your question.” Rowan murmurs into Thancred’s coat. “But who knows what the next one will bring.”

Thancred hums quietly, knowing just from the tone that the topic is a sensitive one. He lets a hand card through the hair at the back of Rowan’s head. “Would that the next one doesn’t come.”

Rowan makes another quiet noise, ears folding back in the way they do when he’s upset. “Would that the Twelve would be so kind.”

They stay in their embrace for a long moment, neither one wanting to let go or the other. Thancred takes the moment to indulge himself and press his lips lightly to Rowan’s temple, lets his hand find the spot behind one of Rowan’s ears that never fails to make him relax. That seems enough to chase away the clouds hanging over the other’s mood, as Thancred quickly spots a small smile forming on the other’s face.

Eventually, Rowan’s ears twitch and he straightens, pulling out of his relaxed position. “Oh! Oh, I had almost forgotten!” He smiles a little more widely, pulling a little further out of Thancred’s arms. “I heard that this year’s Moonfire Faire is underway in Costa del Sol.”

Thancred snorts, raising a brow. “Is that so?”

“Mhmm--and. Ah.” Rowan flushes, scratching at the edge of the scar crossing his cheek. Thancred’s smirk softens at the sight of the other being so bashful, something warm settling into his chest. “Well…neither of us have anything that requires our immediate attention going on any more, now that my business with Gaius is over and done...and I realized that in all the years I’ve been in Eorzea, I’ve never once been able to go to the Faire.”

“I find that surprising. You found time to deal with the Mandevilles.”

Rowan pouts, just barely. His tail twitches in annoyance. “You know as well as I do that I was roped into helping out Hildibrand against my will.”

Thancred laughs, rolling his eyes. “That didn’t stop you from showing off how ridiculous his flexing is for Ryne, and recounting the tales of his exploits.”

“I was trying to make her _laugh_ , thank you. And that’s beside the point.” Rowan huffs, pout fading. “The point being...well, I had hoped you would want to go with me.”

Thancred has to admit that a day on the beach to wind down after everything that’s happened is welcome. He was never much one for a lot of the festivities that occurred in the city-states, but he had gone to the Moonfire Faire before, back when he still styled himself a bard who could woo anyone he wanted with ease. Out of any of the annual festivities, the Moonfire Faire has to be the one Thancred takes interest in the most.

And, he must say that the idea of getting to see Rowan relaxing on a sunny beach in his swimwear is a very appealing one.

All Thancred says is, “I’m sorry to say that I may have lost my beach-appropriate clothing.”

Rowan rolls his eyes. “Surely we can find something for you there?”

“Probably, though it’s likely to be gaudy and suited to nothing but the Faire.”

Rowan wets his lips and doesn’t answer, turning his gaze instead to the lapels of Thancred’s coat. He smooths his hands over the material with a pointed interest, before looking up to meet Thancred’s eyes again, his face a picture of pure innocence.

That earns the Miqo’te a huff. “I’m not sure I like what you’re implying about my normal clothes.”

“I didn’t say a word, my dear.”

“That’s exactly the problem.”

Rowan tilts his head, wiggling his ears in an attempt to win Thancred over by being cute--which, unfortunately, almost always works. “It’s the _beach_ , Thancred, we’re allowed to wear something that looks over the top. And if you’re that resistant to the idea, you can wear the trunks I only just bought. They look a little big for me, anyway.”

“Or you bought them in advance for me, knowing you wanted to take me.”

“Do you think me so dastardly, Thancred? So _conniving_?” Rowan asks, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

“The pure-hearted Warrior of Light? Oh, Twelve _forfend!_ ” Thancred shoots back, beaming when he gets a laugh in reply. “We’ll just figure things out when we get there--how about that?”

“Sounds perfect.” Rowan gifts him with the wide smile that Thancred loves the most, one that takes over his whole face. He leans up to peck Thancred’s cheek, taking his hand and squeezing. “It’s a date.”

  
  


Rowan takes care of the travel arrangements, and while it’s a long journey via airship and ferry, the pair arrive in Costa del Sol without much issue. The small town is alive with people, the very air brimming with life. Rowan beams at Thancred the moment they step off the ferry, taking his hand and tugging him gently along. Something in his demeanor reminds Thancred of a little kid, drunk off of the excitement in the air alone.

The first stop upon arrival is the local merchant to find another swimsuit. Rowan rummages in the bag he’d brought along with him, pulling out a pair of dark blue trunks and shooing the Hyur towards the temporary changing stations. By the time Thancred has changed and returned to the vendor, Rowan has finished his purchase and has changed as well. Thancred has to admit, Rowan looks quite nice in his blue trunks and the black Far Eastern _happi_ he’d found--it showcases the well-toned legs of an Azure Dragoons quite nicely. (Though, Thancred will never, _ever_ , be tired of the glimpses of the extremely nice physique that hides beneath Rowan’s usual armor.)

“I bought you some sandals and a shirt to put on as well, if you want it.” Rowan says when Thancred reaches him, holding out the shoes and a matching red _happi_. “And I found out where we can store our things while we’re here, so if you don’t mind waiting for me to put things away before we join the festivities to the north?”

“That sounds perfect.” Thancred shrugs on the _happi_ , adjusting it so it sits correctly on his shoulders. Once that’s done, he smiles softly and leans forward for a kiss that Rowan happily returns.

It’s not long before everything is settled, though, and the two can make the trek to the little splay of land that is hosting the Faire this year. Strings of paper bomb-shaped lanterns are hung from the trees and the central outdoor pavilion. People are milling about all over, and the noise grows louder the closer to the pavilion they get. Half of that comes from the group of minstrels nearby, who have to play progressively louder to be heard over the sea of people around them.

Thancred glances over at Rowan and manages to catch the glimmer of disappointment on his face. “Not quite what you expected it to be?”

One of Rowan’s ears flicks at the sound of Thancred’s voice, and he meets his eyes. “Oh! Oh, well--sort of. I didn’t realize it would be this crowded. I mean--I _expected_ there to be people, I knew there’d be a crowd, but...this isn’t quite what I had pictured.”

“What did you picture, then?”

“I dunno. I guess…I was thinking we’d get to find a quiet spot on the beach and just…” Rowan shrugs, his voice trailing off.

Thancred laughs a little, drifting close enough to settle his arm around the other’s waist. “Do you even know _how_ to relax?”

Rowan makes an affronted noise, mouth dropping open. He pokes at Thancred’s stomach. “I do _too_ know how to relax, thank you!”

Thancred can’t help but laugh even more at the way Rowan pouts, leaning over to press his lips to the crown of Rowan’s head. “In the privacy of your room or in the Rising Stones, yes. In a public space such as this? I have my doubts.”

Rowan pokes gently at Thancred’s side again, but the soft, fond little smile on his face speaks volumes.

They do eventually find a somewhat quiet stretch of beach to settle down on. Thancred manages to swipe a pair of lounge chairs and an umbrella when a group nearby leaves for the day. At about the same time, Rowan disappears into the crowd at the pavilion and when he returns, his arms are laden with drinks and some of this year’s Faire delicacies.

The way Rowan beams as he comes back, the way his tail swings back and forth happily, makes Thancred smile and that warmth settles in his chest again. Gods, what had he done to warrant this--a moment of _peace_ and this measure of happiness?

Rowan comes to a stop next to Thancred’s chair and presses a drink into his hands. Thancred takes the opportunity to tug him down and steal another kiss, making no effort to hide the smile on his face as he does so.

Thancred has long since learned not to take such moments for granted.

  
  


While they don’t exactly fill the afternoon with an abundance of activities, Thancred still finds that the time passes much quicker than he would like. He enjoys watching as Rowan takes bites out of his comically large slice of melon, enjoys tugging him along to take a dip in the water only a few yalms away.

Halfway through the afternoon, however, not a moment after Thancred had settled into his chair with drink in hand, Rowan wormed his way next to him and curled into Thancred’s side. The Miqo’te promptly fell asleep, an arm draped loosely across Thancred’s waist and a quiet little rumble coming from his chest. Unable to protest, Thancred settles for running his hand through Rowan’s hair, watching him with a fond smile on his lips.

It doesn’t take long for him to be reminded of their quiet mornings in the Pendants, following the foray into Amaurot and night returning to the First for good. The warmth in Thancred’s chest feels the same as it did then, and he is reminded yet again of just how much Rowan means to him--how precious moments like these can be. He scolds himself once more for taking so long to come to that realization, even if he can enjoy them to their fullest now.

Thancred lets out a breath, eyes closing lightly. He cards a hand through Rowan’s hair, kissing the top of his head as they doze beneath the summer sun.

  
  


“Rowan.”

The Miqo’te pouts in his sleep, turning to press his face further into the crook of Thancred’s neck.

Thancred only laughs, brushing back some of the other’s hair. “Rowan, it’s time to wake up.”

Rowan makes a noise in his throat. “ _Noooooo_.” He grumbles, tail flicking as he struggles to remain asleep on Thancred’s chest.

“Come now, there’s better things to be doing than napping.” Thancred sits up, laughing through Rowan’s grumbled protests of continuing to doze the day away and the vice grip he has on Thancred’s torso. “You’ll miss the best part of the day at this rate.”

“But I’m _comfortable_.” Rowan says mournfully, finally opening his eyes enough to give Thancred a sad look.

“I am well aware of how much you enjoy drooling into my shoulder.” Thancred teases. “But the sun is setting, and we should have something a bit more filling to eat before we have to return to civilization.”

Rowan frowns, eventually sighing and relinquishing his grip. “I hate it when you’re reasonable.” He teases back, moving so Thancred can stand and stretch his limbs.

The sun is indeed setting behind them--it must be less than an hour from turning entirely dark by Thancred’s estimation. He’s of no mind to return to Mor Dhona any time soon, but a beach is not exactly the best place to retire for the night. Rowan agrees to relinquish their spot on the beach, and they decide that they will stay long enough for a proper meal before finding a room at the inn in Limsa for the night.

Thancred knows that it’s not long after the sun sets that the Moonfire Faire’s fireworks will start--and knowing that Rowan has never been to the Moonfire Faire before, he finds himself suddenly determined to make the fireworks at least a bit of a surprise. Admittedly not his _best_ plan, but Thancred will make do.

He settles on keeping Rowan’s attention elsewhere as the twilight hour ends and the sky fills with stars above. They return to where Rowan’s travel bag is stored to be sure it is still safe, then manage to find something more filling for a meal.

They return to the Faire grounds just as the fireworks show is beginning--Thancred snorts out a laugh when the noise of the first bursts startle Rowan so much that he visibly jumps. In an instant Thancred has pulled him into an embrace, nodding his head to the sky above.

Rowan makes a tiny _ohhh_ sound as the fireworks continue, a smile appearing on his face quite quickly. He presses himself against Thancred at his side, his eyes glued to the sight above.

Thancred hums quietly, tightening his hold on the other if only minutely. He finds his gaze trailing up to the sky above as well and lets out a quiet breath.

In some ways, it’s good that Eorzea has changed so little while he’s gone. At the very least, it allows for him to be holding the Warrior of Light in his arms, that sense of home he felt before having never really gone away.

After all, Thancred’s home has never really been a place. It’s been the people--the ones he holds most dear. The Scions, Minfilia, Ryne, and Rowan--home is there, with them.

Thancred can’t help indulging himself again with a peck to Rowan’s cheek, eyes closing gently even when there’s so much else to see above. He just smiles when he feels Rowan point excitedly, and does his best to imprint the day in his memory to think on later.

**Author's Note:**

> and when they get back the twins are upset that they didnt get to go to the beach, so rowan has to take them and thats when jaws shows up to ruin the day and give alphinaud another reason to not want to swim very much
> 
> i was torn between working on this and a significantly longer piece about the ~dramatic~ nature of mutual pining during 5.0 proper, but i decided i wanted to take a bit more time before attempting to write urianger. i also was feeling the self indulgence and focused on this instead, even if the beach date is kind of short. i think i also may have played up miqo'te cat like traits more than necessary, and i didnt get to talk about rowan very much personality wise or expand on his relationship with thancred up to this point...but! hopefully i'll sit down and work on the other fic soon enough so i can share that if people want it.
> 
> anyway, thanks for taking the time to read, and hope you enjoyed!!
> 
> you can find me on tumblr at x-eternalmagic or howdomaddie, and on twitter as @howdomaddie! if you enjoyed this, please leave me a comment and tell me what you liked most! i promise it will make my day.


End file.
